


starlight and steam

by storyskein



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bath Sex, Cunnilingus, F/F, Kink Meme, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 01:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11026092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyskein/pseuds/storyskein
Summary: Clarke and Harper are on a mission to Polis and find hot springs to stop at for the night.Written for The 100 Kink Meme.





	starlight and steam

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for The 100 Kink Meme and appears as posted. <3

“You okay back there?” Clarke looks over her shoulder. Harper has been silent their entire hike, any attempts at small talk falling flat. Clarke didn’t blame her--the list is a moot point now, but the hurt lingers. Clarke feels a small twinge in her chest for the relationships now that felt irreparably damaged, especially with Harper. She likes Harper, and now it just seems...broken. It all seems so broken. 

“I’m fine,” Harper replies, her voice less snappish than this morning at least. It’s late afternoon now, golden sunlight slanting through the dense thicket of trees. Harper stops and pulls out the tablet they have with them. “We should stop here for the night though. Nothing ahead of us except down climbing and thickets.” 

She and Harper share resigned looks, neither of them want to stop. They have a pack of medical supplies that Abby needs immediately, and the back and forth trips to the island are wearying, especially on this short timeline. But downclimbing and nettles in the dark are just stupid, and while they need to move fast, they also can’t afford to...well, die, at this point. Or lose the pack. 

“Good idea,” Clarke says. “A rest will be good for us anyway.” 

Harper nods, meets Clarke’s eyes and quickly smiles. “It’ll be nice to be away from the noise of Arkadia.”

A little something flickers inside of Clarke, a warmth. Harper’s eyes suddenly seemed a little softer, a little kinder. Maybe they could move past all of this. “Yeah. I think so, too. You must miss Monty, though.” 

Harper shrugs off the pack and starts unbuckling the various tool belts around her slim waist. “I do. But we know the score.” 

The score. The long game. How everything in these last few weeks matters, even being away. Clarke thinks of Bellamy and also feels that loss of precious time deep in her gut, and in the loaded silence, knows that Harper feels the same for Monty. 

Clarke clears her throat and glances down at her own tablet. There are a few points of interest and landmark signs on the map, and one lights to her eye. Healing Springs Bath House, with a note: decommissioned 2049. Three years before the bombs. Still, according to the archives, the hotel was abandoned in the nuclear panic but the springs would, obviously, still be there. 

“How about a bath?”

Harper looks up sharply, laughs. “What?”

“The map says that there’s a bathhouse about half a mile from here. Old hotel maybe and everything. We could definitely make it before sundown?” Clarke hands the tablet to Harper. 

Harper’s eyes race over the information, the small smile turning into a full blown grin. She looks up at Clarke, light and fun in her eyes. “Yeah. Let’s fucking do this.” 

They reach the inn and bathhouse about an hour later, picking their way through second-growth forest and finally happening upon a trail that delivers them right to inn. It’s overgrown, the long meadow grass catching the the last rays of evening sun, stars twinkling above them. A wind whispers through the leaves and there’s a peaceful feeling that betrays the reality of their situation, but for fucking once it’s nice to just sink into it. Suddenly, Harper is the only person Clarke wants to be with. Clarke can feel Harper unspooling just like she is, leaving the terror behind them, walking into this liminal space where they can already see the steam rising from the dilapidated wood buildings on the far side of the property. 

“Shall we?” Clarke asks, smile impish on her face. 

Harper returns it. “We shall.” 

They break out into a swift jog, behind the crumbling stone inn with the grass whipping at their thighs, packs jostling on their backs. They slow as they come upon their building, picking their way through the falling down sideboards, finding what must have at one time been the entrance. 

All that remains are the flagstones leading into darkness. Clarke unfolds a collapsible solar lantern that had been hanging off the bottom of her pack, lets the dim blue light shine before them. As they walk further in wisps of steam curl around their feet. The gentle lap of water hitting stone echoes off the walls beckons them on, grows louder as they walk forward. 

“Holy shit,” Harper breathes as the hallway suddenly gives way to an expansive room. Light marble tile lines a large pool. Ivy drapes down the walls and green moss fills in the cracks of the tile. A few neo-renaissance columns hold up a nonexistent ceiling, the only thing above them now is the sky. It’s beautiful in a forgotten way, it reminds Clarke of the pictures she once saw of the ruins of Greece and Rome, of sacred springs and prayer wells. There’s so much beauty on Earth, and Clarke ignores the pain that comes with realizing that now, of all times. 

Clarke drops her back and starts unzipping her jacket, suddenly in a rush to enjoy it, as much as she can. Harper follows her lead; Clarke can hear the sound of buttons sliding through fabric. 

And that--that’s the before, and the after. From the moment before it was just two people about to enjoy something nice. But Clarke looks over her shoulder and sees the swell of Harper’s breasts revealed through the opening of the jacket, and they’re gorgeous. Tanned skin, gentle slopes, the most perfect handful. 

Clarke’s mouth waters and she hears Harper’s inhale, sharp. Clarke snaps her eyes to Harper’s and tension snaps between them, fresh and electric and new. Harper doesn’t take her eyes off of Clarke’s as her fingers find the edges of her shirt and lift it over her head, hair following back to bare shoulders like a waterfall. There’s a mischevious look in her eyes that has sparks lighting up Clarke’s belly, has her smiling too. Clarke hooks her fingers around the edges of her panties and slowly rolls them down, noticing how Harper’s eyes drift over her bared thighs, the dusky gold curls that cover her cunt. 

Then they’re both naked, standing before each other in a liminal time. Harper walks forward slowly, until Clarke can feel the heat from her body, her peaked, tight nipples brushing against Clarke’s own. 

Clarke gasps, immediately bites her bottom lip. Then that thought…”What about Monty?”

Harper nods a bit, but the smile stays. “We’ve talked about it. He knows that I like women.”

“I didn’t know that,” Clarke murmurs, her eyelids fluttering now with the erotic possibility of what’s about to happen. 

Harper hums as she brings her fingers to trail up Clarke’s bicep, watching with fascination as goosebumps trail her fingers. “We haven’t been that close.” 

“No.” Clarke feels the impulse to say _I’m sorry_ , but she doesn’t do that anymore. It is what it is, now. “We can be, now.”

Harper’s grin now is a little feral, a little sad, and completely hot. “At the end of the world?”

Clarke steps forward, and now their hot, damp skin meets completely. Keeping her eyes locked with Harper’s she pushes up on her toes and presses a sweet, chaste kiss on Harper’s lips. “What better time?”

Harper smiles against Clarke’s mouth. “Shall we?” But now the words have a whole new meaning, and Clarke feels a hot throb of want pull at her swollen cunt. 

“Fuck yes.” 

Harper’s fingers entangle with Clarke and she pulls her forward to the edge of the pool. They sit in tandem then push themselves in. 

Clarke’s moan echoes off the broken walls. The water is warm and slightly viscous with minerals, enveloping in the best way. Harper gasp and tucks her bottom lip under her teeth, one hand immediately finds her tit and squeezes the nipple there. 

“That’s your first response?” Clarke laughs as she leans against the pool ledge, letting her feet search out the bottom.

“Um, fuck yes it is. This is the most luxurious thing I’ve felt in my entire life.”

“I can’t argue with that.” 

They go silent for a moment, letting the water soothe away the aches in their body, letting the erotic tension between them both settle and expand. For tonight, they have time, and Clarke has always enjoyed letting the _possibility_ of fucking quicken in her belly, quiver in her thighs. 

Clarke pulls herself along the edge of the pull until she finds a bench carved in the side of the pool, sits down on it and rests the back of her head on the ledge. She can hear Harper swimming towards her, the quiet sound of water gliding and flowing around a person. When she opens her eyes Harper is in front of her, starlit and gorgeous, so beautiful it takes Clarke’s breath away. 

“Come here,” Clarke whispers, pulling her forward so that Harper straddles Clarke’s hips. Clarke sits up fully so they’re more comfortable, water lapping at the bottom of her breasts, buoying them gently. “You’re so beautiful, Harper.” It’s the way that Clarke feels about all women--reverent--but Harper in the gentle light of the night, reflecting off the water, is something else entirely. 

Harper’s eyes are soft and she runs a soft fingertip along Clarke’s cheek bone, pushes back the sticky curls. “So are you.” Then her mouth is on Clarke’s, tongue running the seam of her lips and Clarke opens her lips, slides her tongue along Harper’s and fuck, can’t help the moan that escapes. Her tongue is so good, just the right pressure and movement and searching. 

“Shit, Harper. I could kiss you forever.” 

Harper breathes out, shaky. “Yeah. Fuck.” 

Clarke pulls her back down for more, curls her hand in Harper’s hair and tugs. Harper gasps, rocks her hips against Clarke seeking something more. 

“You like that?” Harper doesn’t even respond, just rocks down harder and mewls, frustrated. “You’re greedy,” Clarke half-laughs, half whispers. “Here, get on my thigh.” 

Harper shifts over and Clarke raises her knee just a little, fits her foot against a crevice in the rock below to steady. Harper’s cunt is slick and ready. 

“Shit, that’s good,” Harper whisper-whines as she grinds down, hips canting along Clarke’s thigh. 

Clarke strokes up and down her body; she becomes mesmerized by how the droplets of sweat/water/steam bead on Harper’s skin then track down, down. Harper’s breath goes thready, her inner thighs gripping at Clarke’s. Clarke suddenly knows exactly what will put her over. 

Clarke cups Harper’s bouncing tits, one in each hand, brushes her thumbs over the sensitive tips. Harper’s rhythm stutters; Clarke grins, leans in and sucks one nipple into her mouth, hard and Harper cries out. “Yes, Clarke, fuck. Do that. Harder.”

“Harder?” Clarke asks, kittenish. “Than this?” Then she sucks gently, frustratingly at Harper’s nipple and Harper sighs with frustration and then Clarke flicks her tongue, hard, over the nipple, a fast succession of strokes. Harper’s hand darts down to her cunt and Clarke continues to suck her tits, biting and licking with her mouth while her hand pinches and tugs. 

Harper comes to Clarke’s quiet coaching, whispers of _fuck yeah, babe you look so good so hot come for me now_ drowned in the waves and the steam. Harper comes with a growl, fierce, fucking Clarke’s thigh, Clarke’s hands gripped on Harper’s ass, their mouths playing over each other’s. 

Clarke holds Harper as she comes down, massages lightly up and down her spine. Harper drops her forehead into Clarke’s neck. Her panting breath fans out along Clarke’s neck, cooling the heat. 

For a moment, Clarke thinks that Harper has drifted off. She settles back, loving the feel of Harper in her arms, tits soft against her own, skin smooth against hers. She sighs out, feeling content for the first time in so, so long. 

Then Harper adjusts and she presses one kiss at the juncture of Clarke’s neck and shoulder. Clarke arcs her neck to Harper’s mouth, shuddering as Harper nips lightly up and down the column of her throat, nibbling behind the ear. Clarke shivers when Harper catches her earlobe in her teeth, bites just enough to sting, and wet-hot heat darts straight down Clarke’s spine. 

“I want to eat you out.” Harper’s voice is low and wanting in her ear, playful too, like Clarke is discovering she always is. Fuck, she wants this woman, more than just tonight, but that’s a problem for another day. 

Clarke noses Harper’s face up, slides her lips over hers because she can’t get enough of Harper’s tongue. But…

“I want to eat you out, too.” 

Harper piano-fingers her hand down to Clarke’s tits, circles the nipple teasingly. “Mmm. What do you suggest?” 

Clarke mouths _fuck_ when Harper pinches, pulls the nipple. “Your cunt on my face, your head between my thighs.”

Harper doesn’t even respond, she just pulls herself out of the pool. 

“Eager?” Clarke smirks.

“Fuck yes. It’s my mission to come as many times as I can before this trash world ends.”

Clarke throws her head back, laughs like she hasn’t in forever. She knows, of course, that she has to save the world tomorrow. But for now? Yeah. Orgasms until the end. “It’s a good goal,” she says as she get out of the pool and scoots over to join Harper. 

Harper swats at Clarke’s ass. “Legs open, Griffin.”

It takes some shuffling and adjusting, but their bodies are slick and hot and ready, and soon Clarke is breathing in the tangy/sweet smell of Harper’s cunt just as she feels the Harper’s fingers parting her folds, hears the murmur of appreciation. 

Clarke licks a stripe from Harper’s clit to entrance, and goddamn, she loves the way Harper tastes. Harper’s moan vibrates between her thighs, hips already responsive and moving over Clarke’s mouth. Clarke pinches her thighs, a silent wait for it, and dips her tongue into Harper’s cunt again, drawing her come out onto her swollen, pink folds. 

Harper’s tongue swipes over Clarke’s clit, wet and messy. Clarke’s stomach flutters and her hips lift, trying to get any sort of pressure; Harper responds by sinking two fingers into her at once, all the way to to the knuckle, her tight cunt stretching around Harper’s muscled, long fingers. 

“Fuck fuck fuck.” The sound that Clarke makes, right into Harper’s pussy, is somewhere between a whimper and a pant. Harper wiggles her hips at her, impatient for Clarke’s mouth to get back to its duty. 

Clarke presses her chin to Harper’s clit, her flat tongue swiping across her folds. Harper’s fingers fuck into her again, alternating between sucking on Clarke’s clit and rubbing it flat, full pressure. Clarke can’t think, then, nothing in the world exists but this. She hears the sounds of Harper’s mouth on her, the sound of her mouth licking and sucking on Harper, the moans and the gasps and the drip of water and hiss of steam and then her orgasm is twisting inside of her, rising and fallling and rising and falling until Harper locks her lips over her clit and sucks at the same time Harpers hips just start fucking riding Clarke’s mouth. 

Clarke can’t even scream out, the sound lost in Harper’s cunt; she hears Harper’s own muffled cry. Both of them are long and protracted, bodies bowing into each other with no give, no reprieve, no pulling away allowed as they shake and shake and shake. 

Minutes later, breath evening out and feet dangling back in the pool, hands linked, Clarke looks over to Harper. “That was incredible.”

“Yeah it fucking was. A good start on my goal.”

Clarke brings up her hand, kisses the knuckle. “Orgasms until the world ends.”

Harper nods, brings their linked hands to her mouth. “Orgasms until the world ends.”


End file.
